With Courage Comes Strength
by breezyyy
Summary: A series of one-shots ranging from angst  ch 1 , to awkward conversations  ch 2 , to scheming friends  ch 3 , all with Kurt, Blaine, and sometimes with our favorite papa bear, Burt, with a good messure of Wes, David, family members and the gleeks.
1. When Courage Backfired

Okay, so to start off I wan to say that this story is a series of unrelated but still sometimes related stories with some of my favorite characters, Kurt, Blaine, Burt, Wes, David and the occasional gleek will probably show up. I'd also want to send a major thanks to DJ-DizzyD my amazing beta! If you havent read her crazy good stories you should check them out! Anyways, onward and upwards! Here's the first chapter...

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**Chapter 1 -When Courage Backfired-**

What if Blaine's encouragement of courage only led to disaster? Kurt confronts Karofsky again but then this time two of his football friends are with him.

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This was a very, very bad plan, Kurt decided a few moments too late.

Calling this disaster a plan would be a mistake as that would imply that he had thought about his actions before doing them, and in fact, he hadn't. Because if he had given it just a second of thought he would have known that it was a bad plan.

A very bad plan indeed.

If he were to go back and actually plan something to this magnitude, it would not have involved him being cornered in the back of the school by half the hockey team an hour after classes had let out. It would definitely not have begun with his face being introduced to "The Fury," the _extremely_creative nickname for Karofsky's fists.

Kurt had been walking the halls of William McKinley, having spent some time in the auditorium after school to blow off some steam and to practice a few songs. No matter how well he insulated his basement, the acoustics would never be as nice as the school's auditorium. He was headed for the back parking lot where he had taken to parking lately as the dumpster dives which had slacked after Puck had joined Glee renewed in ernest, happening almost twice a day. There were indeed dumpsters out back, but only the druggies, burn outs, and skaters, hung out in the back. The jocks usually hunted for prey in the front.

So really, it was only his luck that as he turned the corner he ran, quiet literally, into one of the guys who made his life a living hell.

"Watch it fag!" Azimio growled, pushing the boy to the floor. And then he proceeded to make a show of wiping his hands across his letterman jacket as if touching Kurt had left some sort of disgusting, gay residue on his hands.

Scrambling up from his position on the dirty (_don't think what kind of disgusting mess the floor is_) hall floor, Kurt swept back his bangs, remembered Blaine's text (_courage_) and snapped, "Oh right, gotta be careful not to catch the gay, huh? Better go scrub those hands in acid while you're at it to be precautious! Don't want anyone of you to catch the fag cooties!"

Here he made his fatal mistake.

The small boy shot a glare to Karofsky with his final words. He watched silently as the bigger boy's face turned red and his hands clenched and unclenched before one of them gripped the lapel of Kurt's gray jacket. "What did you say, fairy?"

Pulling back from the strench of his breath, his button nose crinkling in disgust, Kurt replied, "Watch out, Dave, you might not want to touch me for this long. I heard that 'the gay' is quite contagious these days, especially for guys like you."

How he went from being held in the middle of the hall to being slammed, harshly, against the metal lockers was not something that registered in Kurt's mind as it was too busy screaming in pain.

Blinking away the black dots, he wasn't aware of Karofsky's hand sliding from the lapel of Kurt's jacket to his neck until his air ways were being compressed. He was then fully aware of the tight knit circle that surrounded them as the jock's friends cheered him on.

"Don't you dare say another fucking word, faggot!" The hand not clutching his neck flew forward and made contact with Kurt's face. Immediately, the dull, aching pain in Kurt's head intensified.

Sputtering, he struggled with the hand wrapped around his throat, trying to free himself. He wasn't focused on the jeers and cheers of the other boys as they egged on Karofsky, but instead on digging his nails into the large hand. The only thing on his mind was freedom.

With a hiss of pain, the larger boy let him go and Kurt dropped unceremoniously to the base of the lockers. In a daze, coughing, trying to regulate his breathing, he would never know how and why the hockey players decided to drag him through the last stretch of the hallway and out into the parking lot.

He did know, however, that whatever happened to him next would be a team effort.

He had no idea who threw the first punch once they were all out in the open air, but he knew that it went straight to his stomach, causing him to double over, clutching his gut to shield it from further abuse. He also knew that Jordan, a boy that usually refrained from harassing him in the past, had yanked him into an upright position and sent a powerful right hook to his left temple.

From that point forward, things were a blur.

His vision blurred and he began to drift into a lesser state on consciousness as fists and feet made heavy impact with every inch of his body, as the once crystal clear slurs tainting his ears began to sound increasingly muffled.

The Neanderthals left behind a broken boy once they had had their fill.

The police report would later state that a 911 call was logged at 8:41 P.M. from one Mr. Jefforry Dales, a custodian employed at the school. He had found the teen boy lying in the second dumpster to the left when he had been taking out the trash. Mr. Dales stated that he had been convinced that the kid was dead. "There was so much blood. The kid's lucky to be alive."

Hospital records reported that one Kurt Elijah Hummel had sustained a severe concussion with a fracture to the back of head, a broken right wrist (documented as self defense injury), 6 fractured ribs, a nicked right lung, a dislocated shoulder, a broken collar bone, and contusions to his kidneys and liver. That official report did not account for the severe contusions on his torso and neck and the lacerations to his face. Kurt had lost almost 2 pints of blood, the bleeding a result of the wound at the base of his head and the three horizontal lacerations along the fracture to his skull. On his torso, a single rib penetrated his skin. A bone also stuck out from his left wrist.

All in all, it took two surgeries, four blood transfusions, and countless stitches, pins and plaster to put humpty dumpty back together again.

Awareness came slowly, like trying to swim through a tar pit.

Consciousness came as his senses responded to the world around him.

He was awake. That much Kurt knew to be true. He knew that there was pain but that it had been surpassed. He also knew that his mouth tasted like cotton balls. Really, it felt like someone had filled his mouth with those stupid, fluffy cotton balls except that his mouth also tasted salty.

So, this was definitely not a repeat of the morning after the April Rhodes incident. Kurt could only wish that he was only dealing with a hangover. Focusing on the salty taste, he realized that it was blood. This wasn't the first time he had traces of blood in his mouth. Two months ago, one of the baseball players had spilt his lip with a "successful" locker shove in which his mouth had made contact with the locker vent. He also doubted this would be the last time he woke with that particular taste.

Next came the sense of touch. He was on a hard bed and the thin sheet covering his body was itchy. He definitely wasn't at home, waking up after passing out on his Dad's bed. There was no way that his Dad's sheets could be this thin and coarse after a few weeks' use since he had just bought them after his father's return from the hospital. There was a spot of warmth in this cold, cold bed. The source was his left unidentified person was holding his hand, tightly too. It was someone with smooth but slightly calloused hands, so that ruled out his dad as his had a different feeling, rough and so much larger then his own. These hands were around the same size as his own. Still, Kurt's mind was fuzzy and slow moving. He could not identify where he was and what was happening.

The smell. It smelled too clean in this place. It was as if someone had scrubbed every surface and every object with bleach. The sterile stench stung his nose. It reminded him of Ms. Pillsbury's office.

The sounds around him came in measured bits and pieces. First he could hear the loud, freight train snores emitting from somewhere to his far left. Only one man made those kinds of noises in his sleep, and after nine years of being around that sound, Kurt was finally able to identify the source. Dad. He sounded a little ways away, not right next to him so it confirmed his belief that it wasn't his dad grasping his hand like he was suddenly going to vanish into tiny little particles.

Then came this constant beeping that distracted him for a few moments. It was terribly annoying and hammered at his patience with each beep. Finally he could hear this murmuring coming from who he supposed held his hand. No words could be made out but the tone was whispered and filled with what he assumed was the final sense, sight, could reveal where he was, the exhaustion grasped at his mind, which was floating on the sea of consciousness, and pulled him down to the black depths of unconsciousness.

The next time awareness swept over him, he didn't wake gradually but rather was dumped abruptly into the land of the living.

The beeping was there and driving the need for him to get up (_shut the hell up, stupid thing!_) and stop that damn noise. Cracking open heavy laden eyelids, Kurt Elijah Hummel woke up five days after the brutal attack. Again the warmth in his left hand was comforting, and his eyes began to focus and roam around the off white room he was set in. They then latched on the first thing of color, the boy holding his hand.

_Blaine?_

What was he doing here? Why was he hunched over, clutching his hand all the while looking terribly (but wholly endearing) unkempt with disheveled curly locks and a wrinkled shirt under a bulky grandma-knitted sweater. Blaine looked tried, dark circles surrounding his bloodshot eyes.

_Why was Blaine here? Where was… _

_Dad. _

Burt was seated by the tiny window in the left side of the room, reclined back, his head fallen at an off angle. The much quieter snores indicated that his father was indeed sleeping. Now calmed by the fact that his dad was there, Kurt began to asses himself, but found that he was wonderfully numb. With a quicker mind, sharper than it had been days prior, he could quickly figure out that he was in the (oh so wonderful, super awesome) hospital. He really wished that stupid beeping noise would stop. It was becoming the bane of his existence.

Blaine lifted his head, and went to run his eyes over Kurt's face, something he had been doing annually over the past five days. Taking in the (_just sleeping, he's just sleeping, not dy—, he couldn't think it_) sleeping face, reassuring himself that he was still there, still breathing had become a strenuous routine. Blaine kept reminding himself that the bruises would fade, the bones would mend, and Kurt would heal. As his eyes went to run the now familiar pattern, he was stunned to notice that there were blue/green eyes (_ones that had captured him from day one and he was fearful he would never see again_) were starring back at him.

"Kurt? Oh god, Kurt!" Blaine shot up, his grip on the boy's hand tightened. His hazel eyes were wide with surprise and unknowingly a weight felt like it was lifted off his back. Relief.

Kurt tried to reply with the boy's name but no sound emitted, he tried to smile back instead but miserably failed. A sudden feeling of fatigue over swept him, and his eyes lids fluttered shut.

Seeing this, Blaine leaned forward, the warmth from Kurt's left hand vanished (_sad over the loss of heat and comfort_) but was (_so, so_) relieved when it transferred to his face, his right cheek, as Blaine tried to keep him awake.

"Kurt? Kurt!" a panicked voice called out to him."Kurt, don't fall back asleep, please wake back up! Please, please pleasepleaseplease..." Panicking, no, no, Kurt could not fall back asleep! (_What if he… didn't wake up again?_)

Blaine's loud, panicked voice brought Burt back to the land of the conscience with a start. Sitting up, he rubbed his eyes, only to see Blaine leaning over his son.

His heart stuttered to a stop and dropped into his stomach.

(_No, oh no, please Mollie, don't take him just yet!)_

"Blaine?" Burt approached the bed, expecting that at any moment that the doctors to rush in and in a fury of action, try and save his son, but what he found could never compare. Kurt was awake. He rushed the bed and engulfed his son in a tight bear hug.

"Oh Kurt, oh thank you Mollie, you're awake." More mumbles of incoherent messages of thanks and love resulted next. The loud noises coming from the room attracted the nurses and doctor as they flooded the room checking over the now conscious patient.

When the exhausting chaos cleared, Kurt's bedside visitor was no where to be seen, gone from the hetic room. Kurt tried to focus on his father and share his happiness that he was awake and not on the fact that he saddened by Blaine's disappearing act.

Because he wasn't.

(_He couldn't even lie convincingly to himself._)

The weeks that followed were ones of scattered memories and sluggish hours.

His body still recovering, Kurt has taken to waking at odd times of the day for a few minutes and passing back out again. But every time he woke, his dad was there and usually a new guest. First it was Carole, then it was Carole and Finn, then Mercedes around midday. One time it was all the gleeks, and another time Mr. Shue was there. But never the one boy who was the object of his questions.

A week after the day he had woken, Kurt had found himself awake, in what seemed to be late at night as the lights were dimmed and his father's snores had reached the height of their volume. (_No amount of threats of nasty, healthy, tasteless found could detour him staying in the hospital at all hours of the day, every day._) Stifling a sigh, Kurt tried not to fidget as it just aggravated his injuries.

Hospitals (apart from the death, waiting, and depressing settings) were boring. Staring up at the ceiling, Kurt let his eye lids fall, knowing from past experiences that sleep would come eventually. Until then, he entertained himself by picturing all the outfits he could wear in this new winter season.

But by the time smart causal outfit number four had been thought up, the door opened almost noiselessly. Certain that it was a nurse checking up on him, Kurt kept his eyes close and his breath deep, hoping if they though he was asleep they'll leave faster. But the sound that the soles of the shoes made on the laminated floor was not one worn by the nurses and doctors and when someone took his hand, he knew quite suddenly who this late night visitor was.

A chair scraped across the floor and the older boy lowered himself into the uncomfortable arm chair.

It was quiet for along time as Kurt feigned sleep, until Blaine was suddenly talking, "Oh Kurt, I'm so very sorry. So very sorry. If only I hadn't, if only I didn't step in and try to help. With my stupid ideological words. They just messed everything up… I mucked everything up."

Not able to bare this anymore Kurt ceased his so called sleep and opened his eyes. "Hey Blaine," he said softly, his voice sore and raspy from the injuries.

"Kurt!" Blaine exclaimed, leaning back in surprise, "Sorry! I'm… I'll… just g-"

As Blaine went to stand Kurt squeezed his hand, "No, please don't go Blaine, please." He added the extra please when he saw Blaine almost rise out of his seat.

"Why? How can you stand to sit here with me after everything I caused you? I don't know how you're… not disgusted with me. How can you not lay the blame solely at my feet?" The last portion of the sentence was whispered as Blaine's voice cracked. His hazel eyes were staring at their grasped hands and his face was stricken with grief.

Kurt could almost smile at the boy's idiocy. "I don't know how you think that I'd be upset with you. In fact, I don't see how any of this is your fault."

Blaine's forehead crinkled, "You don't? How could you not? If I hadn't encouraged you to stand up the bullies, if I hadn't texted you those stupid ideological words, then you wouldn't be in here right now!"

Kurt shook his head, "No. Those texts helped Blaine. Some days, they were the only thing that made me smile. And Karofsky and his gang would have done what they had with or without your texts, sooner or later."

Blaine shook his head, "I don't believe that. Before me it was just the dumpster and slushies and shoves, and not that those things aren't horrible but, now since me… you were attacked Kurt. They... if that guy hadn't have found y-you… you would have died!" The boy wasn't embarrassed that his voice broke as he finished. He didn't care how emotional he was getting.

Kurt had almost died.

Blaine, no matter what Kurt said, believed that it was his fault.

The boy in question struggled to sit up, his entire chest protesting in a fiery rage, but he sat up despite that and the onslaught of dizziness. Blaine opened his mouth but found a cold hand covering it. Kurt's narrowered eyes were green in anger and he spoke in a harsh voice, "Blaine, shut up. You have no part in this. None. Except for making my life bearable these last few weeks. So stop blaming yourself this instant. I do not blame you. I doubt my dad blames you. No one blames you. It was those Neanderthals. All of this is on them. So please, for me Blaine, stop feeling guilty."

After the outburst it was quiet. Blaine stared at the boy, his eyes wide. Kurt gasped for breath, worn out by his little speech. The two stayed perfectly still as Blaine's mind furiously thought, a torrential downpour of emotions filling his mind. His hand went up to grab Kurt's which still covered his mouth. The other boy blushed as he realized he had left his hand on his lips.

Blaine lowered the limb but didn't release his hand. "I don't think I can." Blaine confessed, but before Kurt could butt in he continued, "I will try, but this weight of guilt can't just go away like that," he snapped his fingers, "but for your sake, I'll try."

Kurt cracked a smile and squeezed Blaine's hand, "Okay, I guess that will do. For now." He smirked, "Don't think I'm letting this go though."

Blaine chuckled, "I wouldn't have it any other way," he stood up, "Now lay back down before the doctors and nurses come in and see you up and rip me a new one for getting you worked up."

With an arm wrapped around Kurt's petite shoulders he lowered him down slowly, pretending he didn't hear Kurt's quiet whimpers as to not hurt his pride. Once Kurt was comfortable and Blaine was seated, the quiet atmosphere of the room returned and soon the patient's eyes began to drop in fatigue.

Seeing how Kurt fought sleep, Blaine whispered, "Go to sleep Kurt,"

"Stay," Kurt mumbled, eyes glazed and head rolling.

"I'll stay," Blaine agreed and he watched the younger teen fall into a peaceful sleep, "I'll stay as long as you'll have me here."

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...So please review! And just to let you know, they're all not angst, some are cute and fluff and friendship and then it kind of circles back to angst. Anyways, thanks for reading! -brezy


	2. Conversations

Chapter 2: Conversations

A nervous hand uncapped his head and ran through his bald scalp, as he studied the clean cut boy infront of him. "Blaine right?"

The dark haired boy nodded once, "Yes, sir. I'm a friend of Kurt's."

"From glee?" It was almost impossible to keep them all straight. For certain he knew Mercedes, the goth chick Tina, Artie, and Rachel, Finn's loud girlfriend. There was, to his knowledge, a no-longer-pregnant blond cheerleader, a ditzy blonde cheerleader who "dated" his son, a sassy Latina cheerleader, a mohawk kid, some new blond boy with unusually large lips, and a tall asian guy who could dance like no other.

It was hard to go from Kurt barely talking about other kids that he went to school with to talking about twelve boys and girls. Not that he was complaining. If anything, he was quite happy about that fact. But it didn't change that he could not get them straight.

"I am in glee, but I go to Dalton Academy."

"Dalton, right." Burt repeated. Kurt had mentioned something like that before during dinner. It was some expensive, all-boys school.

He cleared his throat, "So, you two are friends?"

The kid's pleasant smile didn't change and he replied, "Yes, Kurt and I are just friends."

His hand went to his head again. "And I'm going to trust you when you say that kid." Blaine's eyes locked onto his, and Burt continued. "That's all you want then?"

The hazel eyes slid to the basement door and then back to his eyes, "I won't lie and say that is all I want from Kurt, Mr. Hummel. But right now, Kurt needs a friend, someone who can help and show him that things aren't hopeless. And if the day comes that he wants more, then, well, I'll be there. But right now, Kurt and I are simply friends."

A moment of nothing but silent staring passed as Burt assessed the truth of that statement. He cleared his throat and nodded. "Kurt should be up in a few moments. Sometimes he can lag a bit in getting out the door."

"It's fine Mr. Hummel." The kid replied.

"Want something to drink?" he said gruffly while gesturing for the kid to take a seat at the kitchen table.

"A glass of water, if you don't mind sir."

Burt didn't really like the whole "sir" thing but he wasn't about to let this Blaine off the hook just yet. Maybe after the fifth date he'd tell him stop with the "sir" thing.

After getting two glasses of water, Burt took a seat across the teen at the table. The older man saw how the boy tried to keep a relaxed state, but the tension was visible in his neck and in the way he gripped at his cup. He inwardly smiled. Good, that's how these things usually went. He could still recall the panic and stress of waiting for Mollie for one of their first daes, sitting under the watchful eyes of her much bigger father. At least he was he was doing something right, he thought, because he was confused as hell as to how to act around his son's not-boyfriend love interest.

Clearing his voice, "So how did you guys meet?" he asked.

Blaine coughed into his hand and took a small sip from the water glass. "I met Kurt at Dalton, sir, when he had come to watch our glee club preform." Of course he wasn't his place to mention that Kurt had ditched school in order to spy on their club under the charade of a new student and he had ultimatly ended up helping the boy with troubles at school. It wasn't his place to say, and sometimes, things were better left unsaid…

"Oh." This time it was Burt who took a drink from his glass.

Before the moment could linger into another five mintues of tense silence, the basement door was thrown open.

Blaine stood as Kurt entered the kitchen, a shy smile on his son's face responded to the older kid's rather large grin.

"Ready to go Blaine? I hope my father hasn't scared you off. He tends to do that a lot, to almost everyone." Here his kid sent him a half hearted glare, nothing in comparison to the glare he had received earlier that morning when Kurt had told him that the Blaine kid was coming over to pick him up and he wasn't suppose to interrogate his friend (emphasis on the friend portion of the sentence).

At Blaine's nod to the first question, Kurt replied, "Okay we best be off." He hugged Burt, "I'll see you tonight."

The father nodded, "Okay tiger, see you at ten."

Kurt pulled a face and his eyes widened while his bottom lip puckered almost immediately. Burt rolled his eyes, fully aware of the puppy dog look Kurt was practically born with, and fully aware that just like almost every single time before, he would give in.

"Fine, midnight then. But not a minute later kiddo." His eyes did not stray to Blaine as he said this, even when Kurt would later argue differently. And even if his eyes had, he was merely making sure the kid knew _exactly_ what time to have his kid home at.

"And will you stop with the embarrassing nickname?" Kurt muttered under his breath as he leaned in for a quick kiss on the cheek. But as he pulled back, his son beamed back his thanks, before sending the mega watt grin to the glee kid.

He knew that look, the look shot at Blaine.

"Alright, bye Dad!" His son's voice chipper as he turned away, gathering his bag.

"Bye kiddo." He couldn't help calling Kurt that. His heart gave a non-heart-attack-painful squeeze. He recognized that look.

Burt clasped Blaine on the shoulder before he could follow Kurt out of the room and whispered, "That day you were talking about earlier might be just around the corner."

He was aware of the kid's dark eyes on his face but he was too focused on Kurt impatiently waiting at the door and though he looked angered at his last (mintue) minute intervention, there was a happy glow in his eyes. One that hadn't been there in awhile.

Yeah, that day was soon.


	3. Spy Games

**Since there was some confusion last chapter, I'll say again, this story is a series of unrelated oneshots. Though, when I reflect on all the chapters I have written (about 12 of them) I guess they all could be related, but they are written way out of order. I write whatever my muse deems me worthy to write. But really, it is easier to just assume they don't relate unless stated otherwise. Thanks again to everyone that reviewed and everyone that is reading this! And give thanks to DJ and her amazing beta skills. **

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Chapter 3: Spy Games

Kurt goes back to Dalton to spy again. Set shortly after NBK.

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Kurt stood in front of the mirror with his hip jutted out. He re-adjusted the trench coat for the fifth time, trying to get it to look just right. With a pause, he crossed the room, opened his dresser drawer and pulled out a pair of large, squared sunglasses. Walking back to his mirror, he slid them onto his face and gently placed a black fedora onto of his head, careful not to squish his curls. Tapping his finger on his lips, he gave the outfit some thought.

Before any other ideas could come forth from the fountain of Dignified Designs, his cell blared. Plucking it from its position on his white duvet, he brought it up to his ear without having to look at the caller i.d. "Hello there Blaine James," He said with a small smile, adjusting the collar on the jacket once more.

"Hey Kurt! What are you up to right now?"

He shrugged, though he knew Blaine couldn't see that, "Oh you know, trying to get my spy outfit just right for tomorrow."

On the other side of the line he could hear him 'hmmm', "Oh really?"

"Yep. I figured since Wes and David said that my spy skills were lacking, I should work to reinvent the other side of my double life." He said breezily. "And my philosophy is that you should start with the clothes."

"And why the need to reinvent something you never had?" He could hear the smirk through the line.

"Ouch, Blaine. Ouch. But you remember me telling you about Rachel, right? Well she wanted to send a spy on you Warblers again because apparently I didn't do well enough last time. But something came up last minute so now I'm being sent back."

Kurt had been almost last on Rachel's list of potential spies. She really hadn't been pleased with his ulterior motives for going to Dalton. Stupid Finn and his big mouth, spilling what Dad had been discussing with Carole on family dinner night and his thoughts on sending Kurt there.

At first, Rachel was set on doing it herself, but a sudden two day lab in biology shot her hopes of "doing things right." Then she had gone to Mercedes. But the girl had pulled the parent card, stating that her grades had been slipping this year and it was all she could do to keep them from pulling her out of Glee. Next she went to Quinn, thinking back to when they spied on VA, but with this year being her "reinventing herself" year, she wasn't about to stoop so low as to spy on their competition. Apparently, that would only happen when she was pregnant and on the outs with everyone that didn't spend their Tuesdays and Thursdays after school in the choir room. Tina and Mike had this "Asian power couple" thing going on that Rachel didn't want to touch. Artie just wouldn't do. She didn't trust Finn not to spill his guts if he was caught, nor Puck not to hurt someone. Sam, she didn't trust enough nor did she like Santana enough to ask. And Brittany, well, enough said. So really, her only logical choice was Kurt, no matter how much faith she had on his skills to gather the information needed.

"So when shall I await the cloak and dagger act?" Blaine asked.

Changing out the black fedora for a navy blue one, he replied, "Tomorrow. I'm going to leave just before fourth period. I just don't see a point in going to school because those classes are too easy or just a joke."

Blaine softly chuckled, "So you're using this as an excuse to spend some time at Dalton, aren't you?"

"Oh my Rowling, am I really that obvious?" He joked.

"Not at all!" Blaine teased back.

Their conversation changed to how their respected days were, and like most phone conversations, it moved on to random things that would seem stupid and pointless but at the time seem like the best conversational pieces.

The next morning passed slowly, a thing that every student experiences as they wait for something big to happen, be it a date after school, seeing your crush in fifth period, hanging with friends afterwards. Whatever it be, having plans always makes the minutes seem like hours and the hours seem like days while locked in public hell.

Math class was a joke and a way terrible to begin the day (after of course, a dumpster dive, a locker shove, and if he was lucky, a slushie facial). If being a teacher meant copying and pasting a power point found online and clicking through the slides that had no examples and no step-by-step directions, then Kurt thought even the stupidest Neanderthals at this school could teach as well as Mr. Matthews. English was reading and analyzing characters from Tale of Two Cities, a class in which the teacher spent her time trying to engage her kids and failed horribly, if the snores of more than half the class were anything to go by. Third period biology was the only class, Kurt felt, that had a competent teacher.

After that, as the bell rang, Kurt slid out the side entrance of the school and escaped to his house. Since his dad had long returned to work, Kurt had no fear of anyone being home, so he could change into his spy outfit in peace. Twenty minutes later, Kurt, with sunglasses covering most of his face, a dark fedora and a trench coat, jumped back in his car and raced off to Dalton.

By the time Kurt got there, the boys of Dalton were mulling around for lunch, so it was easier to sneak onto campus. As it was a nice day outside, Kurt spotted most of the Warblers spread out on the grassy floor. Softly stepping, Kurt slid between large oak trees, fighting a smile as he continued his game of bad spying.

Wes was the first to take note of the black-cloaked figure slipping between the scattered trees about, at times the slight figure disappearing. A wide smile broke out on his face, but Wes didn't want to bring attention to the figure just yet. He'd wait for Blaine to spot him. Keeping an eye on the figure, it was all Wes could do to keep from laughing at the kid. He really was endearing.

Nudging David, he lifted his chin towards their spy and saw how his eyes widened and a smirk took over the boy's face. But it looked like Kurt was growing bored with the spy act as he approached the group, standing over the seated Blaine, casting him in a shadow.

Blaine smiled upwards, delight in his eyes, "Kurt, you made it."

Shrugging out of his jacket, the boy in question laid it down before sitting atop of it, caring more for his pants than the trench, "I do not know who you speak of Blaine James."

Rolling his eyes at the new companion, he gestured to the rest of the guys sitting with them, "Guys, this is Kurt, our spy. Kurt these are the Warblers."

Smirking, Kurt tilted his hat to the rest of the gang before turning towards Wes and David, "How'd I score this time?"

The boys exchanged a look before ripping off a piece of paper from a spare notebook and wrote something on it. After a second of squabbling, they raised the paper with a large 8.5 written on it. "You get extra points for style, but until you can score yourself a Dalton jacket, you won't get a full score." David said while Wes applauded, "It was a nice effort though!"

Kurt let out a heavy sigh, "I guess that'll do for now." Taking his sunglasses off his face he asked, "Do you happen to know when I would be able to get one of those snazzy jackets?"

Wes snickered and David replied through a laugh, "Give it a few more weeks kid. You'll probably be given one by then." He said with a wink and off to Kurt's left, Blaine tried not to groan in embarrassment and/or smack his two idiot best friends for dropping hints.

Kurt's head fell to the side in confusion but he decided to wave it off. "So,what bring you here little spy?" Wes asked.

Kurt smirked at Blaine before responding with a shrug, "This and that."

"This or that huh? That's a wonderful reason to drive almost an hour and a half to our humble school."

"What can I say? I was bit by the teenage rebellion bug this morning and felt like ditching."

David laughed, "So you decided to come to Dalton, another high school, while ditching?"

Kurt chuckled softly, "It seems so, doesn't it? Would you be surprised if I said that I didn't do this sort of thing a lot?"

"Nooo… not you, Kurt!" Wes laughed, and added, "Though on second thought, both times I've meet you, you've been skipping school to spy on us, so who knows?"

"Yeah!" David chimed in, "And what's this?" With nimble fingers he snatched a piece of paper which had been sticking out from his breast pocket. Kurt rolled his eyes, suppressing a blush, "Nothing really. Just a list of questions Rachel wants me to get down."

"Ha!" Wes exclaimed, "I knew it! Spying once more!"

David held a hand over his heart and leaned into Wes, scandalized, "And here I thought you were here without motives and to just see us. Oh, how you wound me, Kurt Hummel."

A couple guys listening in on their conversation chuckled. Blaine plucked the paper from Wes and said, "I'll fill it out."

Kurt shook his head and tried to take back the paper, "No, really you don't have to. Rachel is going overboard with those questions."

"No, really, it's cool." He said holding the paper back further from Kurt, "We don't care about spying, do we?" All the Warblers by this point had turned their attention to the four and they all shook their head in the negative or shrugged.

"But if you fill it out, Blaine, then your boy toy won't have an excuse to come back." David smirked.

Kurt ducked his head as he blushed and Blaine shot a glare at the boy in return, but didn't say anything as he pretended to focus on the list of questions.

All the Warblers' smirked and as guys tend to do, said, "OHHHHH!"

Still focused on the paper, David could hear the embarrassed Blaine muttering something that sounded like "Shut up you stupid idiot."

Inwardly chuckling, David and Wes shared a conspirator look, and decided that pay back was a bitch for their friend who never let things go when they were crushing on their girlfriends. "Really, Kurt," Wes said leaning towards the boy, "Ask the poor boy out. He can't take the whole 'does he like me or does he just see me as a friend and mentor?' thing!"

"Hell, we can't take it anymore!" Added a boy with short blond hair named Jake.

The boys all laughed, having experienced their star going on and on about the boy from New Directions. Blaine, if it was even possible, turned a darker red as he tried to bury himself in the sheet of paper with Rachel's cursive handwriting on it.

Kurt, though lightly blushing, found himself curious and he asked with a raised eye brow, "Oh really?"

David laughed, "Yes! I swear, if I have to hear how amazing you are again, I'm going to ask you out myself! Just to get Blaine to make a move!"

"And if not David, then I will!" Wes added. "What do you say, Kurt? The Italian restaurant in town on Friday at seven?" His eye brows wiggled as he goofily smiled.

Kurt smirked back before turning to Blaine in all seriousness, "I don't know. What do you say, Blaine? Me, you and fattening Italian food on Friday at seven?"

Blaine, who had been trying to pretend he was anywhere else with other people, turned to look at Kurt in blatant surprise. "W-What?"

Eyes wide in surprise over his forwardness, Kurt back-peddled, "Nothing, nothing I was just-"

"Yes, I would love to!" Blaine exclaimed, his eyes bright as he grinned widely.

Now it was Kurt's turn to be confused. "I'd love to go on a date with you, Kurt. I'll pick you up?" Blaine clarified.

Shyly smiling now, he nodded in confirmation. The two ignored the cheers of exclamations of "Finally!" from the boys around them and just focused on the other and how beautiful the other's eyes were.

Later that week, Wes and David did not follow the two as they went on their first date. They didn't see the blushing by one Kurt Hummel nor did they see the nervous gesture-r Blaine as they settled into a comfortable dinner. They didn't see when Blaine took hold of Kurt's hand halfway through dessert and bring it up to his lips to kiss. More so, they did not see how Kurt made a grab for the check when the waitress dropped it off, nor did they see the quibble over who would pay, the asker or the picker-uper?

Wes and David did not pull their hats lower on their heads as they followed the recommended fifteen feet when tracking a suspect to the movie theatre in town. They did not watch the new Harry Potter movie (for the fifth time since it had come out) with Kurt and Blaine, nor did they see Blaine push up the arm rest and pull Kurt to his chest as the fight between the couple on screen broke out. As the movie reel spun, they didn't see how Blaine spent his time watching Kurt more so than the movie, and considering how big of a Potter nerd Blaine was, they did not find that unbelievable.

As the ending credits rolled, the two friends did not see the kiss shared between the couple. Or the kisses shared as they left the theatre, or the kiss snuck while seated in the car, or the others stolen at red lights all the way back to Dalton. They also didn't notice how when the light turned yellow, Blaine stopped, repeatedly, when he could have made the light, just so he could have an excuse to kiss the boy again.

Wes and David, expert in the art of spying, did not follow them as Blaine walked Kurt to his car parked at Dalton and did not witness the heated kiss at Kurt's door as they said their good nights.

Blaine did not notice the two and therefore did not walk back down the street to smack them both over the heads for following them all night long. Wes and David did not wait for Blaine to leave after that and then high five each other a mission completed.

And that night, close to eleven, Rachel didn't receive a text message from one Wesley Harrison stating a simple, "Mission complete, thanks for playing along."

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**So here's the third installment, hope you guys enjoyed it! **


	4. Meet the Family

A/N: Thanks again to everyone that reads and everyone that reviews, alerts, favorites. I hope you all enjoy this chapter as much as the last! Thanks again to my amazing beta DJDizzyD, and send some love her way as she just had major surgery and could use some loving!

Disclaim for this entire story: I do not own. Though if someone where to give me Chris or Darren (or both) for Christmas I wouldnt complain :)

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**Chapter 4: Meet the Family**

Blaine takes Kurt to his house to meet his family. Set before Furt.

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Kurt was sitting in the passanger seat of Blaine's car when he asked, "So, do you have any siblings? You never mentioned any."

Blaine grinned a bit before responding, "I do actually. I have a little sister named Lilah."

Kurt smiled back, "Really? How old?" he inquired.

"She's almost twelve, but she's really she's a sixty year old woman in a tiny child's body." Blaine chuckled as they pulled up to the house. "Well, this is it!" Blaine hopped out of the car and got the door for Kurt.

Nodding his thanks, Kurt slipped out of the car in silent shock as he took in the beautiful house before him. Rolling his eyes, Blaine tugged the boy forward, used to the kind of shock his house always brought to the friends he brought home. Opening the door, Blaine just had a few moments to take his and Kurt's jackets and hang them up before a high-pitched voice echoed throughout the foyer.

"Blainey!"

A navy ball raced down the grand staircase and slammed into Blaine who in turn swept the speedy little thing into his arms.

"Lilah!" he returned in an equally loud voice. Kurt watched, a smile tugging at his lips, as the two siblings spun in circles, their giggles sounding throughout the entire his sister and how she only indulged on these moments for so long, Blaine placed Lilah back on the ground.

Kurt noticed as the tiny child, tight curly brown locks with green eyes and a clear complexion, adjusted her dress and swept down the front, removing any possible wrinkles. He was surprised at her refined movements. He watched as she gave her brother a brilliant smile, a silent conversation going between the two before she turned to him.

Stepping forward, she thrusted out a small, smooth hand, and said, "You must be Kurt Hummel. My brother speaks very highly of you. I am pleased to finally meet you."

Kurt's eyes sparkled with amusement, it wasn't everyday that you meet a child who only came up to his elbow who was so eloquent and formal, both speech and dress wear. Her little navy, pleated dress flowing to her knees made her look like a tiny, yet gorgeous little doll.

Stepping forward, Kurt took her hand gently, "I too am happy to meet you Lilah."

She gave him a small smile, weak in comparison to the one she shared with her brother. Before she could say anything further, a woman, Kurt could only assume to be Blaine's mother, entered the entry way. As she beamed at her son and embraced him, Kurt could see where Blaine had gotten his smile from.

"Oh Blaine, it's great to see you again!" She exclaimed as they hugged.

Blaine angled his head to look towards Kurt and rolled his eyes in his direction, "Mom, you act like I don't come every weekend."

"Well five days is a lot of time for a mother to miss her eldest child." She said around a small smile. The woman was of average height at 5'4, with wavy dark brown hair and a tanner complexion like her son's. She had green eyes from what Kurt could see and small features, though not as delicate looking as her daughter's.

"Oh Mom," Blaine said exasperated.

"Yes Mom, you should probably stop embarrassing Blaine or else he'll spend the rest of the weekend pouting in his room writing sad songs."Lilah added, her eyes gleaming in amusement.

"See what I come home to?" Blaine staged whispered to Kurt.

Turing to the new boy, Mrs. James offered him a hand, "How rude of me! It's nice to finally meet you, Kurt."

Kurt blushed slightly at the 'finally meet you' bit, "It's nice to meet you, Mrs. James. Thank you for inviting me to dinner."

"Well, I knew I had to extend the invitation or else I would never get to meet Blaine's friends." She rolled her eyes good naturally and stepped in closer and joked, "It's like he's embarrassed of me or something."

Kurt chuckled while Blaine quickly changed the subject, "Well how about dinner? Where's dad?"

Guiding Kurt forward by the elbow he steered him further into the house to the living room. He missed the looks that his mother and sister shared, smiling at Blaine's lack of subtlety.

They found Mr. James in the living room, staring intently at his book of Sudokus, but with their entrance he stood to greet his son and guest.

"Blaine." He says simpy before giving his son a short embrace and then extends his hand, "And you are?"

"Kurt Hummel, sir" Kurt replied, shaking the man's rather large hand.

"Right, right. Your name has been bouncing around this house lately." Siting back down, Mr. James gestured for Kurt to do the same and Blaine sat next to him, close enough to suggest something but far enough away that would imply nothing more then platonic feelings. Lilah skipped over to Blaine and sat against his other side while Mrs. James took the other arm chair.

Swallowing thickly, Kurt couldn't help but get nervous feeling like he was being interrogated by Blaine's family. But that was a silly feeling, he tried to reason. He and Blaine were just friends. Nothing more.

"So Kurt, Blaine tells us that you are in glee club also?" Mrs. James asked.

Kurt nodded, "Yes ma'am. I'm a member of New Directions, the glee club at my school."

"William McKinley, right?" Mr. James verified.

"Yes sir."

"Do you like it there?" she asked.

Kurt took the easy way out. It was fine spilling his thoughts out to Blaine, but he doubted the rest of his family would appreciate his complaints.

"It's fine."

Mrs. James nodded and gave Kurt a thin smile, seeming to be able to read between the lines like all mothers seem to be able to do.

"Do you do anything else at school?" Mr. James asked.

Glad to be changing the subject answered, "Yes," and he tried not to feel embarrassed as he answered the next part, "I'm a vocalist on the cheerleading team."

"Really?" Lilah turned to the boy, "Were you the one who sang Celine Dion at Nationals?"

Kurt felt the tips of his ears begin to burn as his skin flushed, "Yes, I was."

Blaine turned to him, incredulous, "Wait, that was you? That performance was amazing!"

At their parents confusion, Lilah informed them in her formal, high pitched voice, "William McKinley's cheerleaders are the best in the nation and last year they took Nationals with this brilliant performance and their vocalist, Kurt I now know, sang a fourteen and a half minute Celine Dion song completely in french while preforming in seam with the other cheerleaders."

"Some of those moves I couldn't believe were even possible." Blaine added in awe.

Kurt flashed back to the five hour practices they had most days. He sure remembered coming home, his body sore and his muscles weak with exhaustion, "Yeah, it was a lot of hard work," not to mention tutoring himself in French so he could preform the song to the best of his abilities, not just learning the sounds of French, but actually what he was singing.

A timer went off the in direction of the kitchen and Mrs. James got up, announcing that dinner was ready.

After the move into the kitchen, an elegant, formal dinning room with a warm feeling caused by the cherry oak table and chairs, the conversation steered away from its focus on just Kurt. Lilah, sensing the boy's unease at the inquiries, chatted about her day, as boring as it had been, but guiding her parents' focus away from Blaine's future boyfriend. Because it was too obvious, even to the young girl, how much Blaine liked him, if the silent conversations they would have and Blaine taking Kurt's hand in his own and giving it a quick squeeze of reassurance were of any indication. Really, her brother was too obvious.

Between Lilah recounting her day and Blaine chiming in, the conversation stayed clear of the topic of Kurt's less than stellar life. The two, Kurt noted, were little chatter boxes around each other, one feeding off the other, though Blaine did try to draw him in from time to time. Dinner was very good, a chicken and rice and gravy meal with sweet rolls and for dessert, a chocolate mousse.

As the night ticked along, it grew to be a very pleasant evening as Kurt warmed up to Blaine's family and things became more relaxed as bellies filled. As dinner dishes were stacked up by the sink, Mrs. James shooed them out and Blaine led the two into the entertainment room up a flight of stairs.

Once the door closed Blaine turned to his little sister and asked, "Are you okay, Lilah?"

The small girl sat in the middle of the large couch, smoothed her dress over her knees and flipped back her curly locks over both shoulders, collecting herself before answering, "I'm okay, Blainey."

"Lilah…" he said warningly, sitting to the left of her, leaving the right to Kurt.

She in response rolled her eyes dramatically. "Blaine…" she returned in the same tone of voice. "I'm always going to be in the same situation so please, leave it be. I talk to you everyday and I tell you everything that happens, so really, I'm fine."

Blaine sighed, "Okay, fine, I understand. I'll leave it be, today at least." He said, realizing that Lilah wouldn't say anymore on the topic with someone else in the room.

"So, do you sing Lilah?" Kurt asked, repaying her the favor of changing the conversation from an unwelcome subject.

"I can," she nodded, her curls bouncing, "My voice is just alright though, and I don't enjoy it as much as Blaine does. I'm not a good performer either. So I don't ever plan on joining the choir at my school." She said simply with a small shrug.

Kurt could admire the easy way the girl could admit a minor weakness and how frank she was with it.

"Lils has a great voice, I don't know what's she's talking about." Blaine said and then pulled her to him, and said in a dopey, deeper voice, "But you know kids these days. They'll do what they want. Who am I to stop her?"

Shaking her head at her brother's play, she shoved him off of her good naturally. "Okay, enough about me. Kurt, tell me about the day you met Blaine. I've heard it from his point of view so many times."

Blaine quickly covered her mouth as Lilah glared at the offending object. "Ignore her. Her private school is very stressful and draining. She doesn't know what she's talking about," he chuckled nervously, his neck flushing a deep red as the rest of his skin soon followed suit.

Wiggling out of his grip, Lilah stood up and sat on the other side of Kurt, her slight frame fitting between the arm rest and the other boy. Blaine childishly stuck his tongue out at her while Lilah turned her nose up at him and started a conversation with Kurt, blowing off her brother. Watching his sister and the guy he crushed on talk, Blaine felt a warmth in the middle of his chest start to burn. His sister never got along well with people and to see her talking with Kurt so easily and how well he responded with her...it was great. Really great.

After a little while, though still caught up in their conversation, Lilah turned to her brother said, "Why don't you put on one of your movies so you'll staring as us, you creeper." And with that, she turned back to talking with Kurt.

Recognizing the wisdom in her words, he stood and went to the bookcase of alphabetically sorted DVDs. He trailed over to the H's and decided that he was in the mood for one of the more light- hearted films and selected the second movie. Somewhere between Harry hearing voices in the walls and Hermione being petrified, Kurt and Lilah had been absorbed into the movie too. As the movie ended, Kurt asked, "Next?"

Lilah nodded and Blaine, all too happy to oblige, popped in the next one. Kurt noticed though, as the events started to line up, how Lilah started leaning on him, a wide yawn splitting her face. And as Harry and Hermione jumped back in time, the little girl was asleep, leaning against him, her neck at an odd angle.

Glancing down at the little girl, he wordlessly he lifted her up into his lap. She gave him a tired smile and snuggled deeper into Kurt's body, her cheek pressed up to his chest and her tiny hands clutching at his shirt. For once, Kurt didn't care that his shirt was being wrinkled. Lilah was too cute to get upset about it.

They kept the silence until the credits rolled.

Blaine turned to Kurt and whispered, "She likes you a lot."

Kurt tilted his head and whispered back, "What do you mean?'

"Lilah, I've never seen her warm up to anyone this quickly. I've had a boyfriend before and have dated other guys, and never, never before has Lilah been this comfortable around any of them. But with you, in a span of a few hours, she let her guard down around and now she's snuggling in your lap."

"Oh, I didn't know." He gazed down on her curled haired head, "I didn't think I was good with children."

"Well, I don't know about other children, but Lilah adores you."

As the girl stirred in his lap, Kurt stood, taking the small girl in his arms. "Should we get her to bed before our talking wakes her up?"

Blaine nodded and silently led the way down the hall and into a pale green room. He pulled back the covers and sheets on the simple bed and gestured for Kurt to put her down. He then dressed the girl in her pjs, and with a kiss on the top of her head, tucked her in all the while Kurt watched (though turning his back as Blaine changed her) on smiling at the sweet brotherly affection in each of Blaine's movements. Kurt had always sort of wished for a younger sibling, and it was too cute to watch Blaine and Lilah interact throughout the night, and to see how much Blaine adored his sister.

As Kurt turned off the lights and he and Blaine snuck out of the room, they encountered Mrs. James in the hall. Pointing at the closed door, she asked in a whisper, "She's asleep?"

"Yeah Mom, we put her to bed." Blaine nodded, whispering back.

Bringing her hand up to his cheek, she caressed it, "Such a good boy. Okay, your father and I are going to bed. Be good. And it was a pleasure to meet you, Kurt."

"Likewise, Mrs. James. Thanks again for dinner," Kurt replied with a smile, squashing the envious feeling he felt when he saw the two of them interact.

She kissed Blaine on the other check and then gave Kurt's arm a squeeze before continuing down the hallway with a soft, "Goodnight boys."

As Blaine and Kurt went back into the media room, Mrs. James gave them one last look and smiled as she watched the two of them. She made a mental note to have Blaine invite Kurt over much more often. He really is such a lovely boy. And he brought so much laughter into her house, brightening up her Blaine, lightening his very serious attitude, and bringing some childlike joy to her youngest Lilah.

Yes, that Kurt Hummel was good for her family.

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I hope you all enjoyed it and let me know your thoughts on Lilah and if the conversation between her and Blaine about her being alright is a little vague it is because there are issues in that family that will addressed later on.

**HELP!**so I'm doing a chapter on nicknames and i still need a nickname for both Blaine and David. If anyone has any ideas please either message me or send it in a review, and vote on whether i should use Porcelain or Spy Kid for Kurt.


	5. For True Love Conquers All

**AN: Slightly sad at the small amount of reviewers… Shrugs, over it now. Onto the next chapter. You win some, you lose some, and in this case, some chapters do better then others, I hope this big ball of cheesy fluff is cute. Wrote this at 3 in the morning after watching Sleeping Beauty. **

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**Chapter 5: For True Love Conquers All**

**And then there was Disney. ****

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Life, Blaine decided, was nothing like a Disney movie.

There was no Prince Charming coming for him, no adventure he could go on and make his life that much better. And for that false belief, he was miffed at Disney (Blaine could never be pissed at Disney) for making kids like him believe so.

Blaine didn't have a perfect life nor would he want one. Perfect is boring. But, if things could be a little less depressing, a little less tortured, and a little more fun, then maybe he could forgive Disney for the misconception of "happily ever after." Because really, would a guy like him ever get a happily ever after in the middle of Ohio? Ohio, where the students gave him hell for being gay.

No, there was no Prince Charming fighting his way through the wicked witch's obstacles and curses to rescue him from the bullies at school.

And there would be no riding off into the sunset, planning the rest of his days with the guy he loved.

So really, he should give up the hope of that even happening. He should buckle down into reality and focus on his studies, keeping good grades, getting out of this cow town, and heading off to college and a job where maybe he might find Mr. Right and they could settle down together with a dog or something. Okay, the dog part was kind of random but that's not the point.

The point is, Blaine James really should stop hoping for something great to happen to him. It would just lead to high expectations and inevitable disappointment.

But that didn't stop the boy from pilfering through his younger sister's DVDs and taking a few of his favorites back to the dorm every other week. It certainly didn't stop him from watching them on his laptop with headphones plugged in at night when his roommate was unconscious.

And it didn't stop him from dreaming of Prince Charming coming for him.

Blaine James did not imagine meeting his Prince Charming at school, pretending to be a new student here.

In the small, realistic portion of his mind, he knew that he would meet the guy of his dreams when he was older, when he would be able to recognize him for what he was, and that recognition would come with age and wisdom. That would probably be after college where he had dated a few people to figure out exactly what he wanted in a partner.

He did not imagine that at a time, he would play the fool in tin foil to someone before they showed him who the prince truly was, the boy filled with strength, bravery, and courage. Blaine didn't immediately know that the endearing spy was the one he was looking for, for he had appeared to be a lost soul, someone who needed guidance. Yes, the attraction was there, but it was months before Blaine realized that the feeling of his heart kicking into overdrive and the feeling of being complete while in his presence of that special someone was actually the feeling of the big word.

Love.

As the days of their relationship melted into weeks and then into months, Blaine was able to put his finger on it one spring day.

Lounging on his bed back in his dorm, he watched as his boyfriend browse, one of the first times Kurt had been in the room, his fingers trailing over everything, picking certain objects up to examine them before putting them back. Eventually, as he knew Kurt would, the pale boy was drawn to the closest. Seeing it full of boring, though tasteful uniforms and a couple of dress shirts for down time, Kurt went to close the doors before spotting an unlabeled box at the back. Curious, he bent down to open it. Blaine, realizing what Kurt was about to stumble upon, sat up sharply.

Under the box top were stacks of Disney and Pixar movies.

Lifting the box up and placing it on the bed, Kurt silently asked what this hidden box was.

Blaine blushed, embarrassed that he would have to share this secret, "I'm kind of, well, obsessed with Disney movies, especially Disney princess movies."

Kurt smiled sweetly and Blaine was once again reminded why he cared so deeply for the boy. Kurt never said an ill word towards his likes and obsessions, even when he was forced to listen to his rants about them from time to time (ie. the Harry Potter series).

"Who's your favorite princess?" Kurt asked as he thumbed through the DVDs.

"Princess Aurora." Blaine admitted.

Kurt nodded before admitting, "I haven't really watched Disney for awhile, but I can remember that I always loved Ariel."

"Really? Why haven't you watched them?" Blaine asked, confused. He always pegged Kurt as a Disney fan.

Kurt shrugged and bit his lip, the look he always wore as he decided whether he wanted to share a piece of information with him or not.

"After my mom died, I just couldn't stand to watch them anymore. We used to watch them together. We'd always watched a movie every day after school. We would dance and sing and act out the parts together and after she died, I just couldn't watch them without her… I haven't watched them since."

Blaine caught Kurt around the waist and pulled the petite boy onto his chest, snuggling him. For a few minutes they laid there on the bed, Kurt losing himself in the memories of long ago and Blaine letting him collect himself.

"Would you, do you want to watch one? Or am I asking too much?" Blaine spoke softly into Kurt's hair.

Kurt wrapped his arms around his boyfriend tighter, pondering the question. "Okay, but just… just not The Little Mermaid, okay?"

Blaine pulled back, making eye contact and smiling, "Of course. Any suggestions as to where you want to start?"

Kurt sat up and went back to looking through the box, "Snow White?"

As Blaine started up the DVD and the couple got comfortable on the bed, it wasn't until Snow White began to sing while baking the pie for Grumpy that Kurt began to relax and start to enjoy the movie. The song _Someday, My Prince Will Come_ came on and Blaine didn't want to ruin the movie watching experience for Kurt, but he couldn't help but sing along. That was his favorite song as a kid.

As the movie wrapped up, Blaine found himself focused on the boy more so than the movie. Watching as Kurt was bewitched by the magic of Disney and as Prince Charming kissed Snow White, Blaine couldn't help but do the same thing as the prince. Kurt pulled back quickly, though he communicated with his eyes that he was sorry, but the kissing could wait until after the movie. Smiling at the message, he settled for pressing his face into Kurt's hair, inhaling his addicting scent.

"Some day my prince will come… some day when my dreams come true." Blaine sang softly as the movie ended.

"Do you believe that? That your prince will come for you?" Kurt asked, twisting around so they could face each other.

Blaine smiled sweetly and nodded, "Yes, and sometimes I believe my prince has already come."

Kurt pressed his lips to Blaine's and poured all his love into the simple kiss.

"Well, Princess Aurora I hope you are fully awake now. And, I hope I have saved you from the wicked witch and slain the dragon as I wish to rule the lands of Dalton with you."

"Thank you for chasing them away." Blaine kissed him back, thinking about how when he was with Kurt like this, the two simply enjoying each other's presence, the whole world melted away and nothing else mattered but them. Not the bullies, not their past sadness, but only the happiness of their shared future.

"And I look forward to ruling the lands with you my charming prince."

And so the two ruled the school together.

And as the Disney movies go, Blaine and Kurt lived happily ever after.

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**AN: I warned you it was going to be a big bag of teeth rooting fluff, it was meant to be ****angsty****. :/ Ohs wells. The next chapter might be a little while as my amazing beta and friend is still trapped in the dungeon (aka the hospital) and has yet to break free from the chains that imprison her (aka Dr. Evil ****poopy**** head) and I'm too fearful to post without her amazing fairy godmother skills, fixing my run on sentences (like this one) and ****sucky**** grammar.**


	6. Standing Still

Thanks to all those that reveiwed! Chapter with some of Blaine's background and his sister's too. Trigger warning for this chapter for assault. Just thought you should know.

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**Chapter 6: Still Standing**

Blaine tells a story about him and his family's past

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One day Blaine started off a night of their weekly movie night like this, "It's a surprise that she still even likes me, my sister."

Immediately, Kurt knew that tonight was not going to be a night of watching the worst scary movies possible but a night of confessions, a night where Blaine confided in Kurt as much as Kurt had in Blaine.

Kurt stayed silent, waiting patiently to be the listener now.

"I mean, everyday my sister is teased, taunted and probably even bullied because of me. She says she isn't bullied, but she how would she know what qualifies as bullying? I mean it gets so bad that you start to think, 'this is normal,' and 'this isn't that bad, at least im not being beaten everyday.' But I know she gets harassed at her school because of me, me being out and proud gay guy. I know they give her shit for having a gay brother and since she stands up for me, and fights back with her speeches on love, I know she gets so much hate thrown at her. All because she loves me and doesn't believe their, their bullshit! I told her, after, after the attack, that she could say she doesn't like me anymore that she hates that she has a gay brother so people will leave her alone."

Blaine breathed out deeply, though a small smile over took his face as he lost himself in the memories. "I don't think I've ever seen my sister so pissed before. She was so upset I suggested that she kicked me in the shin! Said that I was being a dumbass and stupid, and she gave me the riot act for even suggesting something like that."

His smile faded as he continued, "But I still don't get it, I don't get how Lilah can still love me after what happened."

Kurt asked, "The attack?" Those words had jumped out at Kurt during Blaine's speech; he knew that is had to be bad, as Blaine stuttered over the word.

Blaine nodded. "Yeah," he sighed deeply, his face taunt, "The attack." his voice broke over the word. "I've always regretted running from the bullies at my school, and I know I always will. If only I had been stronger, if only I hadn't let them win..." Blaine trailed off and shook his head, staring at his hands in his lap.

"If only the mask I wore at school wasn't so pompous. If I wasn't so vocal about things. It was bad, but I could have held on longer until the end if the year when those cretins graduated. It was just those notes, to go kill myself, that it would be doing everyone a favor, especially my family... those were the worst. Not the locker shoves, being locked in the janitor's closet, and getting rotten fruit thrown at me when my old glee club would perform, but the notes made me doubt everything. And when I came to realize that I had been contemplating suicide, I knew I had to switch. But I wish I had picked a better time, a time when those bastards didn't have such free time."

Blaine finally made eye contact and he said in a tight voice, "I switched schools a week before Christmas break. Dalton wanted me to start with their new semester after break, so I didn't go to school for that last week, but Lilah did at her private elementary school. She was only in fourth grade. She was so small... it was surprise she didn't die on that cold, cold day."

* * *

Lilah shoved her hands into the pockets of her red peacoat, wishing for her mittens that her brother had given her for a small early Christmas present.

The Ohio winter seemed like it waited for the last week of school before hitting them all with a nonstop downpour of snow that only kept adding up slowly, making the surroundings nothing more than a blanket of pure white. She really should have brought those gloves, but when she had woken that morning everything was just lightly brushed with the flurries. Now, as she hiked a block through ankle deep snow, she wished she had listened to Blaine.

A car then rolled up beside her and the young girl gave it a glance out the corner of her eye, hoping that it would be Blaine surprising her with a kind-hearted pick up, even though all week she had preached to him that even though he was home for a week, it didn't mean he had to smother her and baby her. She had walked to the bus stop a block away since first grade. But now she was hoping he hadn't listened.

But, Lilah had serious doubts that it was Blaine coming to pick her up. The car was not one she recognized.

The windows rolled down and a voice yelled, "Hey kid, wanna get in the car?"

Call it common sense, call it woman's intuition, call it whatever you want, but those words sent warning bells off in her head.

She may only have been eight years old, but she was no idiot. She knew that accepting an offer like that wouldn't make her warm from escaping the snow. It would very well be the end of her.

Curiosity made her face turn towards the car, wanting to see what kind of person she was dealing with, when she noticed that there were three guys in the car, the back window rolled down, with one of the guys' head peeking out as he gestured to her.

That's when she recognized his face.

And that one face was enough to send her sprinting down the street, as fast as a small child could, while trying not to trip in the snow.

She recognized that face from her brother's yearbook when she had innocently asked who the boys that tortured him were. She wanted to commit their faces to her brain, a face to put to the evil beings that made her brother doubt his right to live his life. And now it looked like they had found her.

As she ran, she swung her messenger bag that acted like her backpack to the front, fiddling with the front pocket to reach her cell phone. As a fourth grader her parents had granted her a cell phone, for the only usage of calling them or her brother for emergencies.

This qualified as an emergency.

Her cold, numb hands could not seem to unlatch the pocket and her ears registered the car moving faster and a door being thrown open, feet crunching in the snow closer and closer behind her.

She needed her phone. She needed to call Mom or Dad or Blaine or 911—

Her hands never met with the smooth surface of her phone as the next moment she was tackled to the floor by someone three times her weight and she lost consciousness.

* * *

"The police report said that teachers and students saw my sister leave school towards her bus stop, like she did everyday. But the bus driver reported that she wasn't there at the bus stop like she always was. Like clockwork. And the older man even waited a few minutes for her to show up, thinking that the deep snow had slowed her down. But when she didn't show, he left, thinking that the onslaught of snow had made her sick or that one of us had picked her up.

"I should have picked her up. If I had, my sister wouldn't have had to have spent her Christmas in the hospital, fighting for her life."

* * *

It would be quite a picture to see a small child in a red coat, with black skirt and leggings and a small hat atop curly locks walking down a street surrounded by white covered everything. But that picture was broken when she was tackled, knocked unconscious and kidnapped without anyone noticing anything.

When Lilah woke, it was to the cold.

She woke and noticed she was outside, tied to a tree, and the three guys were gathered in front of her, each with some odd thing in their hands, discussing something important if their body language was indicative of anything.

Shifting from her position, trying to get out of her binds, she accidentally alerted her kidnappers that she had woken up.

They turned to her and she now could see what they held. A bat. A crowbar. A knife.

* * *

"It took sixteen hours for my sister to be found. At first, it took a lot of work and time for the police to even help. When I realized at three o'clock that Lilah wasn't home, I was worried. One thing about my sister is that she is very anal about things. She likes to do things like clockwork, she likes patterns and lists and is very organized. She likes things to be in certain places and loves order. So when she wasn't home at the time she was everyday that week, I knew something was wrong. There had been no phone call. Nothing. So I called her repeatedly. No answer. I called the school. She wasn't there. I called my parents and they had heard nothing."

Blaine stared at Kurt, an intense expression on his face.

"I drove out to the school and traced her pattern to the bus stop, stepping beside her small footprints. I saw how her gait had widened and then there was a huge dent in the snow, and saw how her foot prints disappeared. I panicked when I found her white beret in the snow. I knew immediately that something bad had happened to her.

"But the police weren't much help at first. They spent so much time asking us about Lilah, and when they learned how smart she was, how she was considered a genius on the IQ testing, they began to think that she had merely run away. She was smart enough to do so, they reasoned. My parents fought with them, but by the time they believed us, night had fallen and all the snow had covered any evidence that Lilah could have left behind."

Kurt could feel tears stinging in his eyes. What a horrible thing to happen to a person.

"It was a miracle she was found at all."

* * *

Lilah was cold.

She was shivering.

And with every shiver that racked her body, more pain would follow as the movement jostled her wounds.

She was in so much pain.

It was after dark, when they had started.

They had said she was getting what her brother deserved, to be beaten and left to die. And she believed them, that this is how their logic worked. If they couldn't have Blaine, they would do it to her. And Lilah was glad they did it to her in his wake.

They would have kept at Blaine until he was dead unlike her where they stopped when she had passed out from the pain.

Outright killing an eight year old girl was hard to do.

But apparently, leaving her to die of hypothermia wasn't that hard to do.

At least they had cut away her bonds, letting her curl into a ball to keep warm. Lilah knew it was pointless trying to get help. After dragging her body two feet through the snow, she had ended up passing out. The pain was much too great. She knew she should probably move, to keep warm, to keep her blood flowing, to try and reach the road for help. But knowing something and actually being able to achieve it were two different things, vastly different things.

It was disheartening, watching the white snow around her turn red as her many wounds bled profusely. At the least the cold was good for one thing, but she'd rather have been hurt during warm weather and bleeding out quickly than being left in the snow and worrying about hypothermia and blood loss.

Lilah was a smart girl. She had been told that almost her entire life, with special schools, tutors and many talks with her parents.

So, she knew that the likely hood of her surviving was slim to none. If she didn't die of exposure then she would from her wounds.

As midnight passed, the snow stopped falling. She kept drifting in and out of consciousness, but when she awoke yet again, she tried to study the stars, a hard feat because she found it hard to concentrate. She thought, with the position of the little dipper, that I was close to three A.M. now.

She hoped that her brother and parents would be able to find happiness one day.

* * *

"It was at first night that a patrolling officer spotted a new set of skid marks on the highway. The cop, I'll always remember his name, Zachary Bason, got out of his car and searched the area around where the skid marks headed to. There were a bunch of trees there, and he found a backpack half buried in the snow. It was Lilah's. He called it in and everyone raced there. Even though the police didn't want us there, we followed anyways."

* * *

Mrs. James was out the car before it could fully stop, her son right behind her and husband close too. As the paramedics brought a board out of the trees, she began to cry. The police didn't have the heart to stop the distraught mother from her child.

Upon seeing the blue lips and ice white skin under the oxygen mask, and a blood-stained blanket wrapped around the tiny body of her baby girl, Suzette James began to cry in ernest, her legs unable to support her as her husband, Zachary, hugged her close, supporting her weight as tears prickled his eyes. Ignoring his mother and father's response, Blaine went right up to the men loading his sister into the ambulance in a hurry and jumped in without asking if he was permitted to.

He was not going to let his sister out of his sight any time soon.

"My sister was hypothermic, with a stab wound in her side, her right arm was broken in three places, her ribs smashed, a broken collar bone and a fracture to her temple." Blaine swallowed thickly, getting caught up in the memory of his sister, broken and dying before him in the hospital.

"It was a long month, full of false starts, full of doctors telling us that Lilah wouldn't make it. Every day was a battle for her life. Every day, I would come in, not knowing if Lilah was going to survive 'til night fall, and every night I couldn't sleep, knowing at any moment her heart could give out and the machines couldn't keep her alive anymore.

"The three boys were later found, arrested and tried, and are luckily still behind bars. But it took a month before Lilah was deemed 'out of the woods' and another six months of recovery. I ended up going on independent study for that last semester of school and didn't transfer to Dalton until the next school year. But I will always regret what happened to Lilah, and how it was my fault she almost died. And how the attack changed her. It changed our whole family to be honest.

"I don't think I will ever be able to forgive myself." Blaine finished, tears trailing down his cheeks.

Shocked over the horrific story, all Kurt could think to do was pull Blaine to his chest and hug him tightly, rubbing his back as Blaine cried heavily.

"You never could have known that would have happened when you decided to transfer, Blaine. It wasn't your fault. You weren't the one who hurt your sister. You didn't know those sick bastards would do something like that," Kurt said, trying to reassure the boy.

Pulling back, Blaine locked eyes with Kurt, "I know...b-bbut I can't help but feel guilty."

"You can't let that guilt eat at you; it'll eat at you until all that's left is an empty, black hole."

Blaine chuckled through his drying tears and admitted, "Lilah said the same thing."

Kurt smiled, "See, that sister of yours is a genius. So, believe me when I say that no one blames you for what happened to your sister. And once you stop blaming yourself, you can slowly move on from what happened." Kurt stopped for a moment, "And ignore how cheesy it sounds and just follow the advice."

Blaine chuckled and dropped his head, breaking eye contact. Kurt lifted the other boy's head with his finger, "I'm serious, Blaine. You really have to stop the guilt trip."

"Okay," he nodded.

Kurt raised his brow in surprise, "Okay? As simple as that?"

Blaine shrugged, "I guess. You've only just restated what my Mom, Dad and Lilah have been telling me for the past year. But I guess hearing it from you, kinda like an outside bystander, it makes me think that it's that much truer."

Kurt exhaled and his head titled in confusion, "Well, that was easy. Usually, convincing one of my friends that something wasn't there fault takes a bit longer, with crying, grumbling oer fattening ice cream and loads of tissues and therapeutic chick flick movies."

Blaine grinned, "We can still do that if you want."

Kurt chuckled softly, "No, I don't think my thighs can take the carb-filled dessert. But, I can go for a chick flick."

Blaine agreed and before long they were arguing over which one to watch.

With that night, a bond had been forged forever between them. A story of guilt, fear, and heart break, one that Blaine had never told a soul about, and with Kurt's support, was able to remain a part of the past. That night proved to Blaine that he could share things with Kurt just like Kurt could bare his soul to him.

That night, Blaine's love for Kurt grew more than Kurt would ever know.

* * *

Hope you all enjoyed it. Thanks for reading!


	7. Shopping with Kurt

**AN: Hey guys, sorry for such a long wait, I got a little discouraged from the lack of response for last chapter. Shrugs, some chapters do well and some don't, it's fine. After a Christmas party (where I got a HP sketchbook WIN!), my bestie's 18****th****bday, a trip to LA with school, and an accepted into College! I'm going to college! Not even getting my wisdom teeth out yesterday can get me down – sorry for the long note. Of course watching endless hours of Pushing Daisies always helps. So I'm back, and along side finishing my college apps, my huge gov project, and ap art pictures, I'm writing. So here you go: **

* * *

**Chapter 9: Shopping with Kurt**

Blaine thought it would just be a nice evening out with the boy he was dating, shopping with Kurt wouldn't be that bad, right? Especially since he had already swore to not attack his wardrobe until they had become official. Oh how wrong he was.

* * *

Blaine had thought he was being nice.

He thought that in a situation like this, it was the right thing to do.

Yes, you could take into account that technically he and Kurt were not officially boyfriends, but that was just a technicality at this moment, and a slightly awkward 'what are we?' conversation.

So when Kurt said he was going shopping and as he shot Blaine a look out of the corner of his eyes, Blaine, knowing most of Kurt's mannerisms, knew that he was debating on whether it would be proper to invite Blaine along. Blaine knew that he should go. It would be fun, right?

So really, today would just be a nice, fun day with the guy he was dating, roaming the mall as he got to watch Kurt in his element. It wasn't like it was Black Friday, so there should be no bodily damage (the stories he heard from Burt made him more than a little nervous about next year's Black Friday and since he and Kurt would be properly together by that time, Blaine would be expected to go with him).

He started out the morning the same as always, a shower followed with belting out random song lyrics from the Beatles to Katy Perry as he dressed and tried to tame his curls. After a quick munch on some Captain Crunch, a kiss on the cheek to his mom, and a hug to Lilah, Blaine was out the door, in his car, and on his way to Columbus to meet Kurt at the mall there. It was easy to spot the boy at the front doors of the mall, bouncing on his feet, bundled up in a heavy though fitted jacket, a scarf and two Starbucks coffee cups, steaming in his hands.

"Hey Blaine!" Kurt greeted, a smile quick to his face.

Blaine's heart sped up at the sight of his… (not quite) boyfriend. He was too adorable with his rosy cheeks and red button nose, the cold wind hitting his slipped his hands onto Kurt's hips and titled his head slightly upward to kiss him softly. His lips prickled in the sudden warmth, and his body hummed in appreciation of one Kurt Hummel.

Pulling back, he replied through a smile, "Hello Kurt." The younger boy kissed him back, a wide grin on his face

Once the greetings were finished, Kurt handed Blaine the cup in his left hand, "Here, chai tea latte,"

Blaine should have asked what was in Kurt's cup as it would have been an indicator to what lay ahead.

Taking a sip of his coffee, Blaine nearly groaned as the warm liquid heated his insides, hitting the spots Kurt's kiss didn't reach. "Thank you."

Kurt grinned back before angling himself towards the door, "Ready?"

Blaine slipped his free hand into Kurt's and replied, "Yup!"

The mall was pretty crowded but considering the time of the year, with Christmas only a few weeks away, it could have be a lot worse.

Though Kurt was technically the one holding his hand, it was more like him dragging him into the depths of the indoor mall. Christmas or really "non-denominational decorations" were all around, cheery if not a slightly annoying music trickling through the speakers. Before Blaine could say anything catty about the holiday spirit throwing up in this establishment, Kurt had whisked into a sterile looking shop, one that would be too intimidating for Blaine to enter on a normal occasion.

As they crossed the threshold, Kurt dropped his hand, and darted forward, his hands flicking through the coats on the metal rack. Unsure as to what he was supposed to be doing (Should he look at clothes too? Should he make conversation? Should he be a silent observer?), Blaine settled for standing slightly behind Kurt as the taller boy silently judged each heavy jacket. Blaine bit his lip to muffle his laughter as he heard the quiet mutters of the boy in front of him.

"Tacky... cute but that color goes with nothing... ugly... gross... nasty... no, no, my eyes! They burn! Next! Oh! That could work with... nope. Never mind."

All jackets seen, Kurt went to the next row of jackets, flipping through them at an equally fast pace. Kurt picked out a cream colored jacket and within ten minutes, Kurt had seen everything and was at the back of the store by a wall of mirrors. Shrugging out of his own sweater, he asked Blaine to hold it while he tried the two jackets that had pleased him.

But once on, as Kurt adjusted the fit, he pulled faces in the mirror that made Blaine chuckle quietly. Spinning around, Kurt asked with a smirk, "What do you think? How do I look?"

Blaine froze as the words of David and Wes filled his head, "If they ask you how they look, lie lie lie! Even if they look too hot and what they're wearing is hideous, lie. You will never survive the fall out. The how do I look question is a trap. Always say they look amazing, or beautiful, don't say anything negative."

His eyes widened and he sputtered.

Kurt lifted his head and chuckled softly, "I'm just kidding Blaine. I wouldn't trap you like that. I know this jacket does not compliment my figure or my color."

Smiling. Blaine nodded as Kurt put back the jacket and shrugged his own back on, then proceeded to drag him to the next shop. Time after time, Kurt would pull Blaine in and out of stores at a rapid pace, his skilled eyes able to quickly judge if anything he liked was located here. It was a whirlwind of colors, fabrics and insulting words as Kurt ragged on the horrible winter fashion, all the while Blaine thought, 'Not another store!'

Around lunch, Blaine was practically begging for a break. Kurt agreed to eat, if a bit grudgingly if Blaine analyzed the boy's response . Chinese food bought and slowly being consumed, Kurt eyed Blaine, "Tired?"

The other boy blinked then smiled, "No! I'm fine."

Kurt smirked in return, popping a bit of orange chicken into his mouth, "If you say so..."

Why did he say it like that?

But not two hours later, Blaine was sure that his white lie earlier was painfully obvious now, as they left what had to be the fortieth store. Collapsing onto the nearest bench, Blaine was aware of Kurt's soft laugther following him.

"Oh my Rowling! I'm so exhausted!" Blaine groaned.

Kurt sat subtly besides him, settling his five bags on the floor. Blaine leaned over and rested his head on the other's shoulder. Closing his eyes he listened as Kurt said, "You did better than Tina did the first time I took her shopping. She was ready to either collapse or make a run for it by store eighteen."

"That's good to know," Blaine mumbled, comfortable leaning against Kurt's shoulder.

"Sorry," Kurt whispered

Blaine sat up, his eyes locking onto Kurt's, "Why? What for?"

Kurt looked down at his feet, "That you didn't enjoy yourself today."

Blaine used his finger to raise Kurt's head, "Who said I didn't have fun today? All I said was that I was tired. And that's because of how much fun I had, and because of how you're a manic shopper." Blaine smiled widely, growing used to these little spouts of self doubt that seemed to plague Kurt. But it was normal in any new relationship, learning your significant other's likes and dislikes and how far you can push them.

Blaine kissed him sweetly, "Trust me, I had fun today. I always cherish every moment that I spend with you."

Kurt smiled back, "That's really sweet of you to say."

"And I loved when you nearly had a full on brawl with that woman in Lucky." Blaine laughed.

Kurt smirked, "No one gets between me and the last pair of slim jeans. Besides, did you see the thighs on her? There would be no way she would manage to squeeze herself into them."

"Maybe she was buying them for someone else?" he shrugged.

Kurt rolled his eyes, "Oh please, no one gets that attached to a pair of jeans for someone else. They were for her, unfortunately. And if she wasn't buying them for a 'goal outfit' or something, she would need to grease herself up to ever hope of fitting in them without bursting the seams."

Blaine laughed at the boy, taking great pleasure in his catty remarks.

"Please tell me you didn't kick the other guy in that one store like he said you did." Blaine said around his laughter.

Kurt laughed, "I don't know what to say then, because I totally did. But I can't believe the little baby complained to the manager about me! The idiot, that last-season wearing hillbilly, didn't know how much I wanted that sweater; it was the only color that will work for me this season! Good thing the manager basically worships me. Especially after I gave him a complete make-over!"

"I think most of the workers here recognized, if not knew you." Blaine said.

Kurt nodded, "Yes, most of them do. I'm out here almost every other week. You can't even imagine the amount of work I've had to do with my friends about their wardrobes. Mercedes and her thing for neon color has to be carefully monitored, and Tina, I just had to get her to branch away from the tacky Hot Topic store. There are perfectly acceptable stores that sell black clothing. It's all about accessorizing for her. My greatest failure was never getting Rachel out here with me."

Blaine smiled at Kurt and then kissed him again.

Eyes fluttering open, he asked breathlessly, "What was that for?"

"You're too cute sometimes. Especially when you talk about makeovers," Blaine replied, scooting in closer.

"Well they are my crack." Kurt said with a wide smile.

Blaine chuckled, "Scared?" Kurt asked, referring to the deal Blaine had made with him, that Kurt had free range once they were official.

"No, not really." He said with a shake of his head.

"Good. There'll be less of a battle then, unlike the fits Artie would have when I tried to get him out of those hideous sweater vests."

"I'm glad then we won't have to deal with that," Blaine said and then he looked at Kurt, his expression serious, "Because I know you're always going to win when it comes to fashion. So I won't fight your judgement when you give me a make-over."

Kurt titled his head slightly in confusion, "Are you-"

"Kurt Hummel?" Blaine stood up and kneeled in front of the boy.

Kurt's breath caught in his throat, Blaine took hold of his hands and asked, "Would you do me the honor of being my boyfriend?"

Nodding, Kurt nearly shouted his agreement before pulling Blaine into a searing kiss. Pulling back only when he felt himself get lightheaded from the lack of oxygen, "Does this mean I can make you over now?"

Blaine's sighed sounded more like laughter, "Tomorrow! How about tomorrow?"

Kurt's lips curled into a smile, "Perfect. How about ice cream now then? And then I can take you out to dinner?"

The older boy leaned in for another kiss, "You're perfect."

* * *

Thanks for reading and I hope you all have a great holiday!


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